


Use Your Body (Show Me How to Love)

by liverstomp



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:19:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverstomp/pseuds/liverstomp
Summary: It’s just what you do: you have a one night stand with a hot guy from the club, and afterwards, you go home, and you do not stay. Absolutely not, never ever. But Jihoon stays anyway, because Jun’s voice sounds like a lullaby, and all he needs is sleep.





	

Mistakes are easy to make. Too easy. So easy that Jihoon is making one right now.

He’s leaving the club to get laid, which is not a mistake in itself, but there are several mistakes built into this course of action. For starters, he came to the club with Seokmin and he didn’t see him for over an hour before he left, and his phone is also dead. The next kicker is that he can’t remember if he’s got somewhere to be tomorrow and he doesn’t think he has a key to get back into his apartment later. The third thing, and this one’s the real icing on the cake, is that he can’t even remember this guy’s fucking name and has no reason to trust him or blindly follow him to his place to begin with, but he’s so damn hot Jihoon is willing to overlook it.

The heavy bass of the club’s music is still echoing faintly in his half-deaf ears, and there’s still time to turn back, to find Seokmin, to save himself from a night that could turn out horrendously, but he knows good and well he won’t. It’s been a long time since he got any, and he’ll be damned if he lets an opportunity like this slip through his fingers. Especially since this guy offered in the first place. Especially since the way he was dancing made Jihoon’s jeans feel tight, since the way his breath was hot and thick on Jihoon’s ear was almost enough to get him off on its own, since his voice was so _sexy_ , and _Christ_ , how could he say no to that?

His shoulders are broader than the fucking Serengeti. Jihoon can tell he works out even when he has his shirt on, and it only makes him more excited to see it off, but things are never that easy. First off, they’ve got to take a ride on the subway to get to his apartment, and there are few things less sexy than the odor of the stairwell leading down into the station, but he pays for Jihoon’s ticket, and being paid for is _extremely_ sexy. Jihoon wishes he could remember his shitty name. Well, not shitty. It’s probably great. If only he knew it!

When they’re actually on the subway, he’s standing a lot closer than he needs to be. Jihoon can smell a mix of his minty cologne and a little bit of sweat, and he wants to fuck him right there on the subway car, on the seats or against the window, or _anything_ , but there are other people on board and it’s also a fucking public subway car so he bites his cheek and tells himself to have some god damn patience for once and stop getting so worked up. Jihoon feels an arm curl around his shoulders and it’s muscular. Shit.

“Almost there,” he whispers in Jihoon’s ear, low and husky. Good God. Jihoon has to physically will himself not to squirm.

The second they’re inside the door of the apartment, a cramped little studio space on the third floor of a less than luxurious building, he’s pressing Jihoon’s back to the door and kissing the hell out of him, deep and rough and hungry, and Jihoon thinks he remembers that his name is Jun because he thinks he remembers him saying that right before he kissed him like that at the club. Their bodies are close enough that he can feel how hard Jun is through his jeans, and he wants them off right now, so he starts fumbling with the zipper until the hint is taken.

Before his head can catch up, Jun’s shirt is on the floor, but his pants are still on, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be taking them off until they’re at least a little closer to the bed, so Jihoon leads him impatiently toward it and pushes him down to make quick work of the button and the zipper and everything else he’s got to take care of to get these pants on the floor, too. The sheets feel kind of expensive when he touches them, and he thinks this may not be as much a mistake as he thought.

“You, too,” Jun insists breathlessly, hands sliding under Jihoon’s shirt to yank it off once he’s pulled down his boxers and gotten a hand around Jun’s dick. Jihoon groans and shrugs it off, and the second he has, large hands are roaming his body, pressing down everywhere it’s tender, hot and intent. He pulls Jihoon’s pants and briefs down in a single sweep, letting his hands find the insides of his thighs and moaning. “Oh god, baby.”

Jihoon doesn’t like being called baby, especially not from an anonymous club hookup, but he’s allowing the look on Jun’s face to help him get over it, the unadulterated lust in his eyes to take him clean past indifference and almost into the territory of enjoying it, of thinking he wants to be called that again. It might just be because Jun doesn’t remember his name, either, and that makes him feel a little better somehow. He hisses through his teeth when he feels a kiss on the inside of his thigh, warm and wet and so close that he can feel the heat in his cock.

“Jesus, you’re so hot,” Jun mumbles into his skin, and while Jihoon would normally be flattered, he’s too damn horny to find the time.

“How do you want to do this?” he asks hastily, licking his lips. Jun looks up at him, hands still planted firmly on this thighs, and it’s a pretty thing to see him from this angle. He ponders on the answer a little longer than Jihoon would like.

“Whatever you want to do is fine with me,” he says, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Jihoon raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“Really?” Jun chews his lip endearingly and shakes his head. Jihoon fights the urge to find him cute.

“No,” he admits hesitantly, shyly almost, and Jihoon thinks this is the absolute last time he needs to be acting shy. “Jesus, I want…” He grabs Jihoon’s dick enthusiastically and rubs his thumb over the head, eyes fixed more there than on Jihoon’s face. Jihoon groans when he starts to stroke slowly, taking his time to make it up and down the shaft. “I want you to fucking rail me,” he says, and it sends shivers up Jihoon’s spine and back down again, straight through the tip of his dick.

“You sure?” Jihoon asks, and Jun is nodding before he’s done, fishing a bottle of lube out from under the bed (Jihoon can’t tell whether he thinks that’s gross or not) and opening the cap in a big hurry. He squeezes some out onto his fingers and sets immediately to fingering his own ass, soft squelching noises and muted gasps resonating throughout the room. Jihoon almost wishes he could do more than just watch, and he reaches forward to start jacking himself off, but Jun stops his wrist.

“Can I?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before wrapping his lips around the tip of Jihoon’s cock and taking in as much of the shaft as he can. He sticks another finger in his ass and hits a good spot, and the moan Jihoon feels around his dick makes him throw his head back, thread his fingers into Jun’s hair and start bucking his hips a little.

The inside of Jun’s mouth is hot and wet, and he’s got plump lips that slide over the length as his tongue licks, hard and deliberate. He definitely knows what he’s doing, and Jihoon wants so badly to just fuck right into his throat until he comes, but he needs to save it for his ass, so he tries to focus on literally anything else, but it’s impossible when Jun’s put in a third finger and he won’t stop moaning on Jihoon’s cock and making him feel like he’s really reached the edge. Another minute has Jihoon panting, and he physically forces Jun’s mouth off of him, yanks his chin up to make eye contact.

“Look,” he begins, breath ragged, and he sees Jun gulp, “do you want me to fuck you or come down your throat?” Jun licks his lips and whimpers a little, pulling his fingers out.

“Both,” he mumbles, flicking his eyes away. Why is he acting so goddamn _sheepish_ after sucking dick? Jihoon groans and pulls him to his feet, throws him on the bed with a force that makes Jun laugh a single hard chuckle.

“Pick one,” Jihoon tells him, and it’s not ten seconds before he’s hoisting his legs up and spreading his ass wide to give Jihoon the full view. It’s certainly a nice one.

“Fuck me,” he begs. “Hard.” Jihoon shudders at the neediness in his voice and starts groping around to find his jeans on the floor, the condom he stuck in one of the pockets. “I wanna see stars. If I can still walk tomorrow, it’s not—”

“Would you _wait_?” Jihoon grumbles, and Jun chuckles again. At long last, he finds the jeans and the pocket and the condom, and he wishes his hands weren’t so excitedly clumsy so he could just get the damn thing on a little quicker, but the thought of fucking Jun until he’s dizzy is making him rabid, and he can hardly find the attention span to focus on the task at hand. After what feels like years, he’s finally rolling the latex over his dick and sliding lube-slicked fingers over it, inching closer to line himself up. He sees Jun’s legs twitch the second he starts pushing in, and a sweet little moan comes to his ears, just low enough to light his skin on fire.

“God,” Jun mutters breathily as he inches in slowly. “Fuck, Christ, Jesus, _shit_.” A real sailor, this one. The string of curses mixed with blasphemies continues until Jihoon’s buried himself all the way in, culminates in a gritty mewl that’s so sexy on his ears he thinks he might come undone the second he starts moving. “Jesus, baby,” he pants, and Jihoon swears he still doesn’t like to be called that, but it doesn’t stop him from getting even harder. He takes a moment to ground himself, but it’s too long for Jun’s tastes. “Move,” he whines impatiently. “God, just fucking _fuck_ me alrea—”

He’s cut off when Jihoon obliges, pulling out and thrusting back in roughly with a grunt. Jun mouths “yes” and breathes out “more”, so Jihoon keeps up the best pace he can, insides of his thighs smashing into Jun’s ass with every thrust. The acoustics in the apartment are ridiculous; he hears every single slap of their skin together, every single aching moan, every single hitch in either of their breaths with stunning clarity. The feeling of Jun’s ass around him is driving him nuts, so hot and tight, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before he hits his orgasm, so the only thing he’s got on his mind is chasing it down.

“Harder,” Jun shouts gruffly, and he’s so greedy considering Jihoon’s already giving his all. “Deeper. Faster.” He’s stroking himself hard and fast, and he looks so fucking sexy that Jihoon forces his body beyond its limits, makes himself go harder than he even thought he could. “Oh God, baby, you’re so _good_ ,” he cries, pumping into his own hand like his life depends on it, and the combination of watching and hearing makes Jihoon’s head light.

His thrusts lose their rhythm when he feels heat start to pool low in his gut, but Jun is still begging him for more and more and more, so he slams in with everything he’s got, and the way Jun screams tells him he found somewhere good. He tries to keep hitting that spot over and over, and the way Jun is starting to clench around him has him so close, but what really unravels him is how Jun shrieks when he nails that spot one more time, how he shoots white ropes all over his own heaving chest.

Jihoon’s hips stutter and he’s finally coming, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over him while he rides it out with shallow thrusts. Jun pulls him down for a kiss, rough and deep, tongue ravishing the inside of his mouth with more energy than he should have, and Jihoon is so dizzy when he breaks away and pulls out that he’s not even sure he’ll be able to stand. The condom is so fucking full—who knows how long it’s been since he’s come this hard—and he can’t even begin to think of where there might be a trashcan when he slips it off, but he tosses it at a shiny metal thing that looks like a trashcan and figures he can make his escape before Jun notices the mistake.

He finds a wobbly way to his feet and starts to gather up his clothes, resolving to wait and take a shower once he can get Seokmin to let him back into their apartment, but every garment looks the same, so he’s making slow work of it. Once he’s finally scrounged up the pair of jeans that have to be too short for Jun’s 8-mile legs, he starts to think he should just cut his losses and leave without his shirt, but when he stands to go, a lazy hand stretches out from behind and grips the back of his thigh.

“Stay.” Jun’s voice is soft and tired and much more comforting than it is sexy, and Jihoon knows he shouldn’t stay. It’s just what you do: you have a one night stand with a hot guy from the club, and afterwards, you go home, and you do not stay. Absolutely not, never ever. But Jihoon stays anyway, because Jun’s voice sounds like a lullaby, and all he needs is sleep.

There is only one person in the bed when Jihoon wakes up, and it is not the person who pays rent for this apartment. His eyes roam the room lazily, find to his pleasant surprise that his clothes have been folded neatly and placed on the counter. Jun isn’t anywhere in sight, and it is just beginning to occur to Jihoon that he is being very graciously afforded the chance to make his walk of shame minutely less shameful when the front door swings open gently.

Jun looks well put-together in dark wash jeans and a burgundy sweatshirt, and his eyes open up a little wider when he sees Jihoon sitting upright in the bed and looking lost. He sets a thin stack of papers down on the counter and meanders slowly toward the bed, hands deep in his pockets. “I was getting the mail,” he says unprompted, and his voice is really nice and silky if Jihoon doesn’t think about how it sounded moaning around a mouthful of cock.

“Still walking, I see,” Jihoon observes, and he smiles at that, eyes crinkling just slightly. He’s got beautiful teeth, a whole beautiful smile, and Jihoon is vaguely unsettled by how dead sexy turned into downright charming while he was asleep.

“Unfortunately.” He removes one hand from his pocket and pats his own butt cheek gingerly. “But my ass hurts like a bitch, so we’ll call it a win.” His grin is sly and reminds Jihoon of last night when he adds, “And I did see stars, so that’s a plus.”

“Good to know,” Jihoon responds stiffly, eyeing his clothes and wondering whether he’s bold enough to strut over to the counter naked and get them, but Jun follows his gaze and tosses them to the bed without a word, courteously averting his eyes while Jihoon shimmies his underwear back on. He continues to very pointedly look away while Jihoon finishes getting dressed, and Jihoon starts to wonder if he doesn’t remember how Jihoon’s dick has already been in his ass.

Patting his pocket for his phone and wallet, Jihoon determines he’s ready to go and starts heading for the door, but Jun erects a vocal wall before he can even get halfway. “Hey, wait a minute,” he says, and Jihoon’s feet stop more readily than he wants them to. Shoes. That’s what he’s forgetting. He hopes they’re by the door. “I know this is, like, massively shitty of me, but I cannot remember your name.”

“It’s Jihoon.”

“Jihoon?” Jun hums. “That’s pretty.” Jihoon tries not to think about how just how pretty it would’ve sounded if he could have called it out last night. “I’m Jun, by the way.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Jun laughs mirthlessly.

“Yeah,” he begins with a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, I know I didn’t set this up well for myself last night by bringing you back to my apartment to fuck me, but I would really like for this not to be a one night stand, so could I get your number?” Jihoon finds himself very much at a loss for words. He can’t recall a single other time a semi-drunken club hookup has asked for his number, and all he can get his mouth to do is hang open uselessly. “And, you know, I’m not just after sex. I’d like to take you out sometime.”

Jihoon looks him over hard and tries to think of a way to interpret the question that makes sense with every experience he has had thus far, but he can’t find one. He caves in eventually and rationalizes to himself that maybe Jun just wants to thank him for some really good sex, then heads on his merry way. Thankfully, his shoes are by the door.

“I know I don’t have to tell you this, Jihoon,” Seokmin says to him later, nursing a cup of coffee with way too much cream in it, “but some random dude you met at the club and nailed does not want your number to thank you for nailing him.”

“Why the hell does he want it, then?” Jihoon spits, fist hitting the table. Seokmin shrugs and takes another sip; the thought of drinking that much cream makes Jihoon shudder.

“Maybe he wants to date you or something.”

“I don’t date,” Jihoon grumbles harshly. “You know that.”

“Yes, _I_ know that.” Seokmin rolls his eyes. “But I’m supposing you probably didn’t find it relevant to mention to _him_ when you were balls deep in his asshole.” He peers at Jihoon over the rim of his mug. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.” Jihoon parts his lips to rebut, but an alarm on his phone interrupts him with its jingle. Ah. A dentist appointment. So he did have somewhere to be today.

Jun doesn’t text him until three days later, and when he does, it’s an invitation to see a new movie that’s come out. He pays for both their tickets and a large bucket of popcorn that Jihoon is not likely to eat any of, and he sits with his elbow bumping into Jihoon’s side for the whole hour and twenty minutes of the movie. The film is a funny one, and Jun laughs with his whole body in an extremely contagious way, slaps his knee at all the best gags, and is still wiping tears when the credits start to roll.

When they walk out of the theater, Jihoon asks, “This was just to thank me for the sex, right?” Jun gives him a funny look and scoffs.

“Absolutely not,” he says, and this is when Jihoon resolves never to see him again.

Jihoon’s resolve only lasts until the next week, until Jun calls him on the phone and asks him to have dinner. It’s so much tougher to ignore calls than it is to ignore texts, and despite all his steely exterior, Jihoon is too afraid to hit “reject”. He’s also too afraid to say no, apparently, because he tells Jun that yes, he will have dinner with him, and the second he hangs up, he clutches his head in his hands. Seokmin cheers “Second date! Second date!” from the spot on the couch where he’d eavesdropped on the whole conversation, and Jihoon goes to get the aspirin.

When Jihoon arrives to dinner, he is highly dismayed to find Jun with a bouquet of flowers. Jihoon is not a flowers guy: he doesn’t ever give them, he doesn’t like receiving them, and he doesn’t even think they’re pretty to begin with. He certainly has less than no desire to watch them wilt on the kitchen table for a week.

“For you,” Jun says as he nears.

“I don’t want them,” Jihoon tells him. Jun raises his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll hold onto them, then,” he says confusedly, and leads them into the restaurant without another word. Jihoon’s lips form a thin line. He was expecting more of a reaction, more of something to seal the deal on Jun leaving him alone.

Halfway through dinner, the flowers still sit at Jun’s side, forlorn and dejected, and Jihoon doesn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for them. He watches Jun spare a generous amount of glances their way with narrowed eyes before either of them mentions it.

“You really won’t take them?” he asks, and Jihoon shakes his head resolutely.

“I don’t like flowers.” Jun blinks slowly.

“Oh.” He scratches his chin. Jihoon does not find it endearing. “What do you like, then, for future reference?”

“Why?” Jihoon tosses his fork down with a scowl. “Why did you even bring flowers in the first place?”

“Flowers are, like, textbook material if you’re trying to woo someone,” Jun explains. “You’re the first person I’ve met who doesn’t like them.” He smiles. “Which is fine, so long as you tell me what you do like.”

“Sorry, but are you trying to ‘woo’ me?” Jihoon asks, full of skepticism.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, don’t.” His eyes are hard and cold, and he hopes they’re getting the right message across. “I don’t date.”

“Maybe you don’t,” Jun concedes, “but I’ll be damned if I don’t try to get you anyway.” He chews a mouthful of green and nods his head toward the flowers as Jihoon’s jaw dangles lifelessly over his plate. “It’s my bad, I know, but please take the flowers, and I’ll get something you like next time.”

Jihoon accidentally takes the flowers, and he forgets to tell Jun that next time is not happening. Seokmin hollers so loudly he makes the neighbors bang on the wall when Jihoon wanders through the door with the bouquet. He sings and places them in a vase while Jihoon cradles his head in his hands and wonders what went wrong.

True to his word, Jun does not have flowers the next time Jihoon sees him. Just as much as Jihoon said he liked coffee, there is a bag of coffee grounds in Jun’s hands. It’s a more expensive brand than the one Jihoon usually buys, but he’s heard it’s really good, and he’s pissed at himself for being happy to receive it. Today, they’re going to do karaoke. Jihoon thinks it’s a little awkward with only the two of them, but Jun doesn’t have a bad voice at all, even if he refuses to sing seriously. He gawks when he hears Jihoon sing and asks him for three encores. Jihoon lets him pick the songs.

Sometime or other, Jihoon mentions in passing that he likes spearmint gum, and when they go bowling, Jun pulls two packages of spearmint gum out of his pocket and presents them gracelessly. Jihoon is _not_ won over or even remotely charmed by spearmint gum, he tells himself, but he’s having a tough time saying the same about the way Jun whoops when he manages to get more than three pins down on one roll. He gets a strike once, on his very last turn, and he picks Jihoon clean off the ground in excitement. Jihoon does not stop him.

“You’re basically dating him,” Seokmin tells him, “which is totally fine, except I deserve to meet him sometime and you also need to stop lying to yourself.”

“I am _not_ lying to myself,” Jihoon snarls, “and I am also not dating some random lay from the club, so there is no need for you to meet him.”

“Can you really say he’s just some random guy when you have his number in your phone and you’ve gone on”—he counts on his fingers one by one, and it makes Jihoon angry that he starts counting with him—“nine dates?” Seokmin gestures at his whole body with wiggling fingers. “I mean, you’re going to have dinner with him right now.”

“Am not.” He is.

Jun brings no gift to dinner this time, and Jihoon is very frankly relieved, because he’s tired of feeling guilty about always receiving things when he has never once gotten anything for Jun and wouldn’t even know what to get in the first place. The fact that Jihoon _wants_ to get him something is a bad sign in itself, so he ignores it and focuses on the steak he’s eating. The steak Jun paid for. Jihoon hasn’t paid for very much at all lately.

“So,” Jun begins, scraping the final bits of mashed potatoes of the plate and onto his fork, “you still don’t date, huh?”

Jihoon has to gulp hard before he says, “Nope.” Jun nods sagely.

“I figured as much,” he says casually, licking his fork clean. “But I hope you’ll let me keep taking you out regardless.” Jihoon doesn’t know what expression is on his face. He doesn’t know what to say to that because he doesn’t even know what he thinks about it.

“What the fuck are you saying?” is what he eventually comes up with. He says it too loudly; some of the restaurant’s other patrons glance over in astonishment.

“Sorry, is that a no?” he asks, frowning. He’s not cute. “I just figured since you already let me this many times that it would be okay.”

“Aren’t you trying to woo me or whatever?” Jihoon grumbles, face hot out of nowhere. “Why the hell would you want to keep taking me out when I won’t date you?”

“I like to,” Jun says flatly. “You’re fun. And hot.” He shrugs nonchalantly, turning his glass around on its coaster. “A lot of reasons.”

“Isn’t it expensive?”

“Very, but if we don’t spend money on shit we like, what are we gonna spend it on?”

“Rent?” Jun snorts.

“I promise I’m not missing rent just to take you on dates. I’m a responsible adult.” Jihoon purses his lips and stares hard at the center of the table.

“And what if I said I would date you?” he asks quietly, mumbles deliberately so it’s below the ambient noise of the establishment, but when he looks up, Jun is smiling like he heard.

“I’d be thrilled.”

“But what about if we start to hate each other and break up?” Jihoon shoots, and he knows he’s getting too vulnerable here, but Jun doesn’t seem like he’ll pry. “What if you regret it and want me gone in a week? What about then? Will you still be thrilled?”

“Hypothetically, no, I will not be thrilled,” Jun says quizzically, “but there’s no guarantee those things will happen.”

“There’s a damn good chance.”

“Well, if they happen, they happen, and that’ll suck,” Jun muses, “but I operate under the assumption they won’t.”

“That’s stupid.” Jun shrugs.

“Nothing I haven’t heard before,” he replies with a broad grin. Jihoon just hums.

“Okay.”

“So,” Jun starts, eyebrows high, “were you just theoretically asking that, or are you saying you’ll actually give me a chance.” Jihoon swallows hard.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“Well, if you _will_ give me a chance and it’s _not_ just theoretical”—he leans in close and drops his voice to a whisper—“I’d like to cash in on that time I asked you to come down my throat.” Jesus, Jihoon’s face has never been this hot in his entire life, and the way the lights flicker in Jihoon’s eyes isn’t helping.

“You didn’t ask,” he chokes out. Jun laughs like a wind chime and leans back.

“Maybe not,” he confesses, “but I definitely wanted you to and you didn’t, so if you’re really going to bite the bullet and date me for real, that is my first request.” Jihoon calls for the check.

The speed with which Jun has Jihoon’s pants unbuckled and pooled at his ankles once they reach Jun’s apartment would be completely unbelievable if Jihoon hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Jun palms him through his underwear before shucking that, too, and Jihoon hisses. He won’t admit he hasn’t fucked anyone since Jun last time, mostly because he doesn’t know why that is.

“God, you’re _so_ fucking hot,” Jun whispers, pressing messy kisses up and down his inner thighs, tongue grazing tender spots close to the base of his dick. “I’ve dreamed about this, like, three times.” Jihoon pushes a hand into his hair. It’s silkier than it looks and very easy to tangle his fingers in. Jun hums and massages his thighs a little more, slides one hand over Jihoon’s shaft slowly. “Jesus, you’re sexy.”

“I thought,” Jihoon begins, drawing another breath to make up for what he’s losing, “you weren’t after sex.”

“Not _just_ sex,” Jun clarifies, mouth drifting a little closer to Jihoon’s cock. The feeling of his breath dusting over the sensitive skin electrifies Jihoon’s spine. “I want you both ways. I like dates.” His hand starts to stroke Jihoon a little more insistently, eliciting a few pleasant whimpers. “And you fucking me was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire damn life.”

“Really?” Jihoon sputters.

“Definitely,” Jun says, and without further ado, he wraps his lips around the head of Jihoon’s dick.

His lips are soft and warm, and the way he drags his tongue in heavy strokes over the underside of the shaft is fucking insane. Jihoon braces himself against the counter behind him and throws his head back to release a loud moan from the center of his chest. His knees are starting to get weak, and he’s not sure if it’s just because it’s been so long or because Jun is that good or because Jun is happily sucking his dick as a boyfriend and not just some forgettable dude from the club. They’re weak and wobbly regardless of the cause.

“God,” Jihoon pants, “you’re so fucking _good_ at this.”

Jun hums a laugh, and the vibrations on his cock make him feel like he’s dying and being reborn. One of the hands that had been firmly gripping Jihoon’s thighs travels to start massaging his balls, and Jihoon knows he’s too weak for being so close so fast, but the bottom of his gut starts to feel warm and he feels his dick twitch against Jun’s cheek. His hips move forward on their own, shallow thrusts to the back of Jun’s throat, and the lewd moan that escapes Jun’s lips is so loud that he can even hear it with stunning clarity even though there’s a cock in in his mouth. He hollows his cheeks anymore, and Jihoon starts to thrust a little more roughly. His breaths only get more erratic while Jun’s wails get louder, and before he knows it, his hips are coming to a shuddering halt while he releases his load right into Jun’s mouth. His vision goes dark with the force of his orgasm, and when he can see again, Jun is licking his lips and pulling Jihoon’s pants back up carefully.

“Thank you,” Jun says with a grin. Jihoon feels like his line has been stolen from him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” It’s just occurred to Jihoon that Jun might, but all he does is raise his eyebrows.

“I would love that,” he says, “but I taste like your cum right now.”

“Oh yeah.” Jihoon looks around uncertainly, notices how hard Jun is even through his pants. “Hey, you’re, uh…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jun says, finding his way to a chair and crossing his legs. He gazes at Jihoon for a second before smirking. “When you’re feeling up to it later, I want you to fuck the hell out of me. I really better not be able to walk this time.”

“Oh, you won’t.” Jihoon feels his pocket buzz and tries not to think about the field day Seokmin is going to have later when he explains why he didn’t pick up. “I promise.”


End file.
